Transgender exec remembered as a role model

Entrepreneur was open about transgender lifeMcGuire, who ran for Houston City Council, is dead at 68

MIKE TOLSON, HOUSTON CHRONICLE

Published
6:30 am CST, Saturday, February 12, 2011

Born Charles R. McGuire Jr., she took on the name Kathryn after sexual reassignment surgery.

Born Charles R. McGuire Jr., she took on the name Kathryn after sexual reassignment surgery.

Photo: Handout Photo

Photo: Handout Photo

Image
1of/1

Caption

Close

Image 1 of 1

Born Charles R. McGuire Jr., she took on the name Kathryn after sexual reassignment surgery.

Born Charles R. McGuire Jr., she took on the name Kathryn after sexual reassignment surgery.

Photo: Handout Photo

Transgender exec remembered as a role model

1 / 1

Back to Gallery

In a city with more than its share of true characters, Charles/Kathryn Leigh McGuire may have been in a larger-than-life league of his own. And hers.

Born Charles R. McGuire Jr. on Nov. 26, 1942, McGuire started a successful Houston construction materials company, bought a home on the edge of River Oaks, married and raised two children before longstanding issues of sexual identity led her first to life as a transvestite and ultimately to sexual reassignment surgery in 1992, after which she adopted the name Kathryn.

McGuire, who died on Feb. 2 in Palm Springs, Calif., at 68, was active in Houston society and never self-conscious about her gender-bending ways as she moved from hyper-masculine entrepreneur who liked to go hunting to an oversize figure in pumps who prowled the couture racks at Neiman Marcus, friends said.

If there is a common refrain among those describing McGuire, it is unforgettable.

"She had a great light around her, an aura," said local filmmaker Brian Huberman, whose documentary The Last Days of Charles/Kathryn chronicled McGuire's sexual reassignment surgery.

"It's like with actors. Some are simply actors and some are movie stars. She was a star. She wanted to be in the foreground. She was not shy and not ashamed in any way. Her desire to be filmed in this very personal, private way was evidence of that. There's something really courageous about someone ... who will walk out into the limelight and say here I am, with no apologies."

Serious intent

McGuire became known to many Houstonians in the late 1980s and early '90s through numerous appearances on the Stevens and Pruett show on radio station KLOL. McGuire accepted the barbs, funny comments and odd listener phone calls with grace, but her purpose in openly discussing the desire to become a woman in the physical sense was serious, said Lanny Griffith, the news and traffic reporter on the show.

"He was such a role model for those who felt the same way," Griffith said. "I really think he saved lives. He gave them a measure of comfort by talking about who he was and the way he felt. There wasn't any sadness about him. I think he inspired hope in many people who were feeling like outcasts, shunned by society — people who didn't belong."

She had a longstanding interest in the Houston social scene, donating money to numerous causes and enjoying any mention of her presence at an event in newspaper society columns.

She endured a four-year government price-fixing investigation that included county officials and various companies, including her M&C Consolidated, that she claimed was pursued in part because of her lifestyle. She invited a filmmaker to do a documentary on her sex-change operation. She ran for Houston City Council in 1989 — acknowledging her status as a transvestite and receiving 8 percent of the vote.

Joy to be around

Attorney Joel Androphy, who represented McGuire during the lengthy price-fixing and corruption investigation that produced no indictments, remembered her as a joy to be around and the center of attention wherever she went.

Androphy still recalls the day he watched McGuire adopt her toughest business attitude over the phone while sitting at her desk in a long dress.

"He was a great guy to me and a great gal to my wife," Androphy said. "He would invite us to various social and black-tie events, and sometimes we would go with him to clubs on lower Westheimer. This was before the operation, when he was an open transvestite. He enjoyed living two different lives. That's what made him happy."

In a 1999 interview, however, McGuire said it was really only the female version of herself that she found satisfying.

"That wasn't me," McGuire told the Houston Press about her male persona. "That was just a shell I was in, or an image I was projecting to make everybody happy."

Left Houston

Ultimately, after the surgery, McGuire left town for good, first for Europe, then New Jersey, and finally California. The cause of death is unknown.

McGuire had recently undergone surgery after complications from a car accident. Autopsy results are pending.

McGuire is survived by son James, daughter Barbara, and two grandchildren.

James McGuire, a playwright, gave his father a bit of immortality when he wrote an autobiographical play about their relationship, Daddy Kathryn.

Never one to miss a good party, the older McGuire showed up for opening night, fashionable as ever in a red dress with black collars at the wrist and neckline, a diamond bracelet and 3-inch heels. By all accounts, she was the center of attention.

"He loved all kinds of attention, and I mean that in a good way," James McGuire said. "He was a wonderful man and a wonderful woman. He was a nonconformist who was able to create his own life and who lived it free of judgment."